


Nightwatch

by stew (julie)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Coma, Dialogue-Only, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hospitalization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1985-11-20
Updated: 1985-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23182423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Ray has been shot and is in a coma. Bodie has been told to sit with him and talk to him – a task that doesn’t come easily at all. But he’ll do it, even if he feels like a fool. Of course he’ll do it.
Relationships: William Bodie & Ray Doyle
Kudos: 4





	Nightwatch

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure if this fic was ever released into the wild, whether via The Circuit or a zine. If you know more than my poor memory does, please do illuminate me!

# Nightwatch 

♦

‘Hello, sunshine. Feel like an absolute twit talking to you, I’ll have you know, but the doctor thinks it’s a good idea. They don’t know if it helps or not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry – that’s the theory. See, I brought you some grapes: I know they’re worse than useless, you’d laugh at me if you knew, you really would, but I had to bring something, didn’t I? 

‘You’re in a coma, Ray, for god’s sake. Getting yourself shot in the first place was stupid enough, but all this lying around like you can’t make up your mind – I don’t know why you’re putting me through this, I really don’t. Just snap out of it, will you? Do us all a favour. Cowley is so worried that he’s visited you twice, did you know he was here? He’s giving us hell at work, of course… Hates losing an operative, all that investment. 

‘But you don’t want to hear about that – Cowley’s wonderful style of command is hardly going to make you feel like coming back to life, is it? 

‘Life. There, I came as close to saying the opposite as I ever want to get when it concerns my partner. You look like you’ll never quite come around, but I’m determined, you hear? I’m not letting you just fade away, you’ve got a fight on your hands, whether it’s with me or against me. I’m not letting you go, Ray, not like this. 

‘During the day, see, I can believe that it will be all right, I can believe in those chances the doctors keep talking about. But then they rattle off percentages like it’s not a human life they’re weighing in the balance. Long shots and miracles, that’s what I think of, not bloody numbers and statistics. And, no, I’m not telling you the odds they’re giving you, ’cause they don’t have the first idea. All you need to know, sunshine, is which way I’m betting. Put my life savings on you if they were running a book; not that that amounts to much, but it’s the thought that counts, right? 

‘Listen to me, rambling on. What makes them think you’d come back just because of the sound of my voice? But then I guess if it were me lying there and not you, I’d be glad enough of you sitting here babbling on. Keeping the darkness at bay. Like I said, during the day it’s all right. There’s life here – all the bustle and the doctors and the nurses (you should see some of them, mate, they could bring you back quick enough) and half of CI5 trooping past talking to you, all embarrassed as hell. Stupid, isn’t it, to be so shy of talking to you? Too like talking to yourself, I suppose, seeing as you’re not replying just now; the first sign of lunacy. No, joining CI5 is the first sign of lunacy, and it’s all downhill from there. Look where it’s got us. 

‘During the day it’s all right, but the night here, it’s so damn dark and quiet. Makes me afraid you’ll simply slip away while no one’s watching you. Can’t have that, Ray, I just won’t allow that to happen. So here I am. Spent all last night with you, too, did you know that? Just sat over there, watching you. Think I dosed off by the end: sorry, but it’s been so damn busy lately, I’m so bloody tired. Tired of everything. Anyway, they said not to just sit here, but to talk to you. Poor guy, I’m probably disturbing your sleep. No – that’s the point, isn’t it? I’ve got to get through to you, wherever you are. So listen up. 

‘You know what else the doctor wanted me to do, other than shoot my mouth off? “Tactile contact.” I swear that’s what he said. I must have looked pretty loopy when he said it, too, because one of the cuter nurses stayed behind and said, “Touch him, dummy.” Loopier and loopier. “Hold his hand,” she elaborated. “Even men can hold hands, you know, in given situations.” Well, there you go, sunshine, I’m under orders. Not from Cowley, exactly, but I have the feeling he’d back them up. Can you imagine what he’d say? Bear with me on the accent… “Well, be a man and hold his hand then, Bodie, he’s your bloody partner, you can do that much for him.” Yes, sir. Here I go. Just wanted to tell you all that so you wouldn’t be too shocked, OK? 

‘You’ve a nice hand, actually. Long fingers; look like they’d be good for prying into things. Yeah, see, they’re a joint longer than mine, and I’m the bigger of the pair of us. But you’re such a long and lanky one all over, aren’t you? All skin and bone and muscle, not a spare ounce on you. No, now is not the time to mention my comfortable waistline, thank you. Some comparisons are easier to live with than others… 

‘You’ll be pleased to know that I reckon the nurses have been taking turns before me. I get the distinct impression that they all run in here whenever they get a spare five minutes just to hold your hand on the off-chance you’ll come to and gaze gratefully into their eyes. You’re meant to fall in love with the one who saves you, I hope you realise that’s the grand tradition. Well, they’re each hoping it’s going to be them. Created quite a stir, you have. As bloody usual. Me, I’m in the handsome mould, but there’s something exotic about you. Often gets them when handsome doesn’t – but you sure as hell know that, don’t you? Anyhow, for some reason, because we’re partners, they reckon I might be better able to win you back than anyone else. So I’m giving it a go. Despite the grand tradition. 

‘I’ve just had a brilliant idea. They want to get to you through your senses – but we’re only covering hearing and touch. How about smell? Could get Cowley to talk to you – all that whisky on his breath would get a fellow Scot reeling… Or we’ll get Murph to take his shoes off next time he visits, that would be strong enough… Not a good idea? OK. 

‘What to talk about? Took Bernice to a movie the other day – the latest James Bond garbage. She’s the one who insisted, of course, and I was so magnanimous about it that when I pressed my case later that evening… Don’t know if you really want to hear the details, might bore you to death – Don’t listen to me, I say the stupidest things sometimes. God, I’m a prat. 

‘Anyhow, James Bond. Ever wish our job was like that? Is that what you joined up for, maybe? Action and glamour and always swanning off to exotic locations and winning the beautiful girls – if so, CI5 must have been a major disappointment. I guess I got a bit sick of overseas when serving with the mercs and the army, but you’ve only ever worked in London, haven’t you? Maybe you don’t appreciate England like I do. Though it’s been just as dangerous to you, hasn’t it, sunshine? Too realistic, the hero of the piece getting shot. Bet it never happened to James Bond, he was never lying around in hospital looking like a waxwork dummy with Agent 006 hanging onto his hand. 

‘All those bloody gadgets he has are what gets me – what do we work with? A gun and a car and our brains. Some of the things he got up to in this movie, you just wouldn’t believe. Mindless fodder for the masses. Hey, maybe when you come out of this, you’ll want to chuck it in, and then we could go make movies instead. Show them how it’s really done and earn plenty of money in the process. No? Oh well. 

‘What would you be talking to me about if I was the one in a coma? Probably read me some god-damn book. You stay like this, and I might even try it – I’ll ask Cowley for some literary advice, he’ll know what’s best. Something lively, eh? Or a mystery, and I won’t read you the last page until you wake up, that’d get through to you. 

‘Wonder if you’d hold my hand. That would bring me back to life again, believe me. Can just imagine me struggling to the surface, just to say, “Get your hands off me, you fairy.” That would hurt your finer feelings, wouldn’t it? Never were so bloody-minded as me when it came to spades and queers and whatnot. Birds, too. Beginning to see it your way, actually. Doesn’t that make you want to sit up and take notice? Bigotted old Bodie finally accepting his fellow man – or woman – in whatever shape or colour they come. You made me see that I was wasting a lot of time with all that attitude. And when it comes to you… 

‘Ray, you’ve got to come back. I’m not all the way there yet. I need more education, more refinement. You haven’t even talked me into reading that damned book yet – what was it? All I can remember is how thick it was. Yeah, suit me, wouldn’t it? Thick books for thick partners. And you knew I was only holding out on it to annoy. 

‘You’re good for me, I tell you. Christ, I’m starting to feel sentimental. Must be late – yeah, it’s past three. Time flies when you’re having fun, isn’t that right, sunshine? 

‘I guess the witching hour is well and truly over – we’re on our way to dawn. God, it’s quiet around here. Don’t know how you stand it. Wake up, and let’s throw a party. 

‘OK, it’s me again. I was just thinking – can’t do that, hold your hand, and talk all at once, you know. Look, Ray, there’s things I should tell you. I mean that’s what the doctor wanted, isn’t it? For me to let you know there’s people here that care for you. Love you. Like me, for instance. I’ll wager the Cow’s got a soft spot for you, too. Just a little spot, mind, but he likes knowing that he has one operative with morals. I wish I could seriously tell you that we’re worth living for, but I couldn’t do it with a straight face, and you’d think I was just taking the mickey. But there’s others who’d miss you like hell, too. They get all choked up when they come and see you, or as choked up as they’re ever going to get… None of them quite know what to say to me, you know, they even make like it’s me they’re worried about. And if you’re just lying there laughing at us behind those eyelids, we’ll lynch you, getting us all sentimental like this. You’re a special one, all right. You keep me on my toes. CI-bloody-5 wouldn’t be the same without you. I know I grumbled at first, but I’m… How’s that song go? You wouldn’t know, it’s a bit low for you. “I’ve grown accustomed to your face,” that’s it. Having you by me, backing each other up. Don’t want to lose that. 

‘Damn it, I’m not going to lose it! No way do you opt out of this partnership, do you hear me, Doyle? 

‘And it’s not just you and me, anyway. It’s about not giving up, Ray, not chucking the towel in. You might feel like you were dealt a poor hand, but you’ve got to stay in the game – there’s possibilities around the corner, wild cards to be dealt. You were always the brave one, the one with ideals and hopes and dreams – I could never see two inches in front of me. If you pack it all in now, those dreams of yours are gone like they never even existed, all the possibilities of your life wiped out. Do you know what that would do to me? 

‘Yeah, I’m selfish enough to bring this back to me again. Always was selfish when it came to you, even in the beginning. I was trying to imagine what would happen if you gave in. You know – what they’d say to me, what I’d do. I think I’d go mad, mate, I think I’d go wild. I can feel this black place inside of me, that’s grief for you, and it’s all leashed down tight right now. It first appeared when they said, “Doyle’s been hit,” like a hole in my guts. But if you leave me like this, it would just swamp me, take me over. Frightens the shit out of me. You want to put me through that? Sounds unreasonable, I suppose, but I’ve never had to mourn anyone before, I’d have to do it in style, see? And I don’t know what will be there when I come through to the other side of it. Just bleakness, maybe. 

‘Sorry about your arm, I shouldn’t try to pace around, I know. But I’m going to fall asleep soon. All this ranting is tiring. You’ll know I’m still here, though, OK? I’ll pull the chair over closer and lay my head by you. That way I can hang onto your hand. With both of mine. Every little bit helps. And I’m not letting you go for anything, you got that? Actually, if holding your hand isn’t enough, maybe I should hop up there with you and get real comfortable for my kip. Always wondered why hospital beds are so wide. Plenty of room there for me. Plenty of “tactile contact” for you. Plenty of gossip when the nurses come in. Forget it. Wouldn’t want to startle Cowley, and he’ll pop in early, on his way to HQ. Nice idea, but I’ll just settle here, thanks all the same. 

‘Good night, Ray. Love you. Isn’t that enough of a shock for you? I guess you know it anyway, but to hear me say it – you won’t get too many chances at that, mate. Good night… 

‘What the hell time is it? Six? What do you want to wake me for at this ungodly hour? Oh. 

‘Ray, you bastard, you’re going to be all right. “Out of the coma and sleeping normally,” do you hear that? I knew you could do it, sunshine. All right, all right, I won’t wake him. You son of a gun. Just don’t remember all those things I said, OK? I’ve got to go now, they’re throwing me out. But I’ll be back, mate, that’s a threat. Might even buy you some flowers. 

‘Hallelujah! 

‘Sorry, sister.’ 

♦


End file.
